


imperfections

by rorschachphysician



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Character Study, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Light Angst, Pre-Relationship, half of it is like kirumi centered and then kaede comes, kind of, kirumis having a moment, some sexual tension maybe, they share a bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:27:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27086320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rorschachphysician/pseuds/rorschachphysician
Summary: Despite all that she has done, she always feels a gaping emptiness.
Relationships: Akamatsu Kaede/Tojo Kirumi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25





	imperfections

As human beings, having imperfections is inevitable, unavoidable, and perhaps a necessary part of growth. Some of them might be ugly—hideous, even—and others barely noticeable.

Kirumi Tojo is aware of her imperfections. She might say that she’s more aware of them than anyone else, as sure as she is that many see her as capable, at least on the surface. It’s also undeniable that many rely on her (yes, she supposes that’s objectively true). However, that isn’t the main focus of her current concerns.

As human beings, it is also only natural to crave perfection and chase after it like a dog running after its own tail.

Despite all that she has done, she always feels a gaping emptiness. The impending fear that she hasn’t been enough, isn’t enough, and will never be enough. That she’s always falling short of her ever-looming expectations that tower above her like a skyscraper, an infinite wall she will never scale. The fear stretches beyond her inability to prepare konjac. No, it stretches far, far beyond, into the darkest crevices of her most intimate fears that chill her to the marrow and makes her feel weak and vulnerable and—unneeded. 

Like she’s going to be tossed away, and no one will utter a single word about it.

Perhaps she tries too hard to achieve something as out of reach as perfection, but she can’t stop wanting it. She can’t stop constantly reaching for it, fulfilling everything that’s asked of her and spending nights upon sleepless nights wondering if those were truly her best efforts. She can’t stop wanting the pain to go away. She can’t stop wanting to succeed (though what does that even mean to her anymore?) so she can stop running endlessly—endlessly—after a target that always remains blurry, only seeming to stray further from her with every passing day. Sometimes, she feels like a weak moth flying toward a lamp, battering herself against it again, again, again until she can barely lift her wings—and yet the flame burns on, taunting her.

If perfection is the only thing that will soothe her aching soul and body and rid her of all of this suffering, can anyone truly blame her for blindly chasing after it?

Kirumi Tojo is aware of her imperfections, so much so that she’s hurting. Hurting, hurting, hurting. And yet no one will ask her if she’s fine—though what difference would it make if they did? She is already convinced that she has moved past the possibilities of recovery and onto the path of no return—

“Tojo-san?”

The voice makes Kirumi flinch. Someone is at her door and, now that she thinks about it, may have been knocking for quite some time.

She swallows down a deep sigh, sitting up from her desk to readjust her nightgown. She finds it strange that someone would visit her room at this time—the clock struck midnight quite a while ago. Nevertheless, as she is (unfortunately) awake, it is her duty to answer—perhaps there is a late night request someone wants her to fulfill.

At the back of her mind, she hopes that accepting this request might silence her racing thoughts for a few precious moments.

She quietly opens the door to find Kaede. Or, more accurately, Kaede’s turned back.

“I would have expected you to be in bed at this hour, Akamatsu-san,” Kirumi murmurs, though it’s less of a scolding and more of a concerned comment. Kaede immediately whips around, and Kirumi assumes that she was planning to head back right before she opened her door. Her eyes are wide in surprise, though the bags underneath them makes it evident that she’s tired. Upon seeing Kirumi, a sheepish smile immediately crosses her face, and it makes Kirumi’s chest flutter for a lovely second.

“I couldn’t sleep.” Kaede’s voice is hushed. The hallway is dim, making the lights in Kirumi’s room sunbeams in comparison.

“I see. So we have something in common.” Kirumi smiles gently, stepping aside to invite Kaede into her room. With a second of hesitance, Kaede steps in and closes the door behind her.

“I was—well, I was going to ask if you’d let me stay the night with you,” Kaede says, voice still small like she’s afraid of disturbing the quiet as she looks around Kirumi’s room. “But, um, is that alright with you?”

The pianist sounds… unexpectedly timid, though Kirumi supposes that no one is at their best when it’s well past midnight. 

“Yes, of course. I will prepare a mat for myself to sleep on, if that is what you wish,” Kirumi answers steadily, secretly eager to have someone to please and not wasting a second as she turns around—when she feels Kaede’s hand grip around her wrist, stopping her. Kirumi raises a questioning eyebrow.

“You don’t need to do that, really,” Kaede says hastily, dropping Kirumi’s wrist awkwardly after a moment and instead wringing her hands behind her back. “I’d feel really bad coming into your room and spending the night with you on the floor, you know?” She glances at Kirumi, who nods in understanding. 

“I understand, but you must know it would be most unbecoming of me as a maid to not offer my best services,” Kirumi says firmly, crossing her hands in front of her as she inhales deeply. She forces herself not to think too much about what she says next. “However, if it bothers you this much to have me sleep on the floor—which I have no qualms with—there’s more than enough room in my bed for two. Perhaps you’d be fine with sharing it?”

She swallows, but try as she might, she can’t stop her ears from flushing a bright red (even though they shouldn’t have, she reminds herself).

“A-ah.” Kirumi glances at Kaede to find that the girl isn’t doing much better either. Her cheeks are suddenly dusted with a rosy color and she’s playing with the hem of her shirt. “You mean it? I mean, I really don’t want to invade your, um, privacy or anything.”

“No, it’s fine,” Kirumi insists, head already whirring with thoughts on how to accommodate Kaede in an attempt to distract herself from her rather… embarrassing thoughts (truthfully, they’re nothing of the risque sort; she just hasn’t slept with someone in… how long? However, if it is to fulfill a request, she will do it). “Would you like an extra pillow? They’re lavender-scented. I will also get you another kind of comforter if you have a preference. I can affirm that the bedsheets are freshly washed, but I can easily change—”

“Tojo-san.”

Pillow tucked in her arm, Kirumi pauses her rummaging to look at Kaede, who’s smiling again (Kaede has a very kind smile, Kirumi privately notes to herself).

“Geez, you don’t need to… do all that, you know?” The blonde says, laughing at what Kirumi can only guess is her confused expression. “I’m already grateful that you’re letting me stay. That and, um, I can see how tired you are. Is there a reason you’re also up this late?”

Well, Kirumi’s limbs feel like they’re on fire and her spine is ready to crack in half any second now, but she puts that aside. She shakes her head, ignoring how it pounds and almost feels numb with fatigue, a sensation too awfully familiar to bother her anymore.

She ignores Kaede’s question.

“Your comfort matters greatly to me, so please allow me to—”

“Tojo-san.” Kaede interrupts her again and takes a step forward. Kirumi stays in place, cautiously allowing her to approach. A few moments pass in silence as Kaede tugs the pillow away from Kirumi, awkwardly tossing it onto the bed before looking up at the taller girl. She takes both of Kirumi’s hands but in a slow, gentle motion, like she’s telling Kirumi she can pull back if she wants to.

“Let’s go to bed, okay?”

Kirumi’s eyes meet Kaede’s for a brief moment before she breaks eye contact. The heat is returning to her ears with her ungloved hands being clasped so closely in Kaede’s, and… she feels stupid for feeling so safe like this. 

“If you wish, Akamatsu-san” comes out as a mere murmur.

There’s no possible way Kaede could know about… everything that has been going on. No way she knows about the countless nightmares followed by the restless nights, no way she knows about the pain, the suffering, how she became a prisoner trapped in her own mind. But for these still moments, Kirumi feels… perhaps not as alone as she thought she was.

Without another word, Kaede leads Kirumi to her own bed, where Kirumi insists for her to get in first. Kaede obliges, finding no good reason to object as she rolls over, allowing Kirumi space to climb in later. The maid waits for Kaede to get comfortable, watching the pianist give her pillow a few adjusting pats before laying down and tucking herself in.

“Lights out!”

Kirumi smiles gently and turns to flick the light switch. The room is instantly pooled with darkness, and it takes Kirumi’s eyes a few moments to adjust. It’s here that she wonders why Kaede had woken up at such an odd hour at all, though she supposes that it’s none of her business.

She lifts the blanket and climbs into bed, settling down next to the blonde.

And here is when the awkwardness of the situation creeps up her spine. What is she supposed to do now? Is it more appropriate to turn toward Kaede or away from her? Should she stay on her back? Sure, there is enough room for them to avoid making contact with each other at all, but combined with the silence it makes the space feel… awfully cramped and uncomfortable. Her body feels like it’s on eggshells, and she crosses her arms over her stomach to try her best ignoring the nervous energy eating at her. 

“Tojo-san?”

Again?

Kirumi’s eyes open at the question, and she finds Kaede on her side, facing her and looking at her with… sympathy in her eyes. At least, she doesn’t think it’s pity.

“Were you thinking about something before I came? Honest.”

So she did realize it when Kirumi avoided the question.

Kirumi stares at the ceiling. 

“Does that concern you?” The sentence comes out a little colder than she intended.

“It’s none of my business, that I know,” Kaede says, lifting the blanket up to her chin and looking at Kirumi with… those eyes again. “But what I do know is that… you have a lot on your shoulders. Too much for one person, you know?”

Kirumi swallows, trying to contain the tick of anger in her throat. What does Kaede know about her that she herself doesn’t?

“What I’m trying to say is that you shouldn’t bear with it all alone, Tojo-san. And—” the blonde chuckles—”I probably sound like the biggest hypocrite right now, but you can only put others before yourself for so long before you… you forget about yourself, you know?”

Kirumi exhales through her mouth.

“Akamatsu-san, I… I appreciate your kind words.” For the first time in this conversation, she looks at Kaede. There’s a knot in her chest that she can’t quite figure out how to untie. She doesn’t know what to say. There’s no more anger, no, but there’s perhaps some regret. Some shame. Some realization. But it all melts when Kaede hugs her. Slings her arms around her waist and pulls her close (and fuck, Kaede is soft. Softer than anything she has ever known).

“I care about you, Tojo-san.” Kaede’s practically speaking into her shoulder. “And I want you to care about yourself.”

Without really knowing it, Kirumi finds her hand tucked into Kaede’s hair. She turns on her side, and Kaede immediately accepts the invitation to snuggle up to her.

Ah, so Kaede is a cuddler.

Kirumi’s heart picks up again as Kaede leans into her chest (she really is never one to hesitate, Kirumi thinks to herself), her eyes closed as she sighs softly.

“We can figure it out in the morning, right?”

Kirumi nods, though she doubts that her response mattered—as far as she knows, Kaede is already more asleep than she is awake.

Right… they’ll figure it out tomorrow, whatever “it” Kaede means. Kirumi doesn’t really know how to prepare herself for that just yet, but the comforting weight of Kaede’s arm over her waist and the pleasant smell of her hair makes her feel just that little bit more grounded.

She closes her eyes, feeling a weight being lifted off her shoulders as she lets herself fall into sweet unconsciousness. Tomorrow… she can put it off for tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> hello every1... so I did manage to reach my goal of having more than 1 fic on my ao3 account before the end of the year. very cool!! anyways this was beta read by my gf thank u so much mwah mwah


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